Poems by Raudal Tanjung Banua
Raudal Tanjung Banua, manages the Rumahlebah and Akar Indonesia Community in Yogyakarta.
Ilustrasi
Peureulak
Where is Peureulak locatedIn your old map and your new mapWhere is the place to depart and anchorThe ships in Kuala Bandar KhalifahWhere I raise the flag of desireWant to meet ?
Looking for traces of history on the coast of the Strait of MalaccaAnd the expanse of the foothills of Bukit BarisanLike looking for evidence of land stabbed by the footprintsof Sultan Syahr Nawi's expedition elephantsAnd the site of a palace whose traces are no longer visible.
Finally I met a pair of sacred tombstonesOn the bank of the quiet flowing Trenggulon riverIt was like ink running out of water, grounding the shipAnd slowing down the movement of the boat's sails. The rustle of bamboo leavesThe sound of children reciting the KoranPraying for Sultan Alaiddin Syaid Maulana Abdul Aziz Syah and Princess Meurah Mahdum Khudawi
The sultan and the empress laid the foundation for the Peureulak siteLying silent for centuries, until now embraced by a fenceMonasa Park, a marker of the first Islamic Sultanate in Southeast Asia,Their graves are like eternal flowersBloom under the sun's path
"Peureulak, before Pasai, before Banda, before others,This is the first," said an old duck herder while pointing to the monument gatewhich was abandoned in the middle of the rice fields. The wooden sticklines the horizon and the sun that will setin the direction of Barus
It's the same point on the west coast of SumatraIt's the same recorded as the oldest and firstBut it's equally unreadable on the new maps of this centuryBecause a treacherous law has erased your nameAnd pouring all the stories into the Ocean's decreeLike an old man who slowly disappearsWith the cawing of his ducksUntil only specks remainSwallowed by the green sea of ??rice fields./2023
Also read: Nuryana Asmaudi SA's poems
Imagine Harianboho from Toba Pier
imagine daily bohofrom the lake pier, sitor village on the other side
invisible because it is protected by the islandlike a lover's eyebrows that make my gaze shiftkissing memories up to the necklevel
A boat was sailing, making me realize that I had formed a new ladder up the hill in the form of stone steps to the hull of Pusuk Buhit.
and the moss of time thickens in my memory which continues to look atthe center of the poet's ancestors,
as if I were reading the green paper letter againconfirming the adventurer refuses to come homeah, the child's shadow is gone!
/2023
Also read: Joko Rabsodi's poems
Balige Market
Batak traditional housesStand up in rows similar to those in my favorite hutaWhen I entered, I found wet lake fishand dried. The aroma of andaliman pierced my senses as if it had carried me to a host's kitchen. Vegetablesfrom gardens and fields in the mountainspiled down from goods rickshawsalong with old colts mooing but still fierce
Gomak noodles and ombus-ombus cakes emitting hot smokegentle in the nimble hands of tradersSate Padang and arsik guramehAlong with pork satayExchanging smoke on the edge of the causeway Free to choose
Balige Market is not just a market in the crowd. But an abandoned village behind the silence of a mountain where travelers can stop before leaving for the cities and forgetting their loved ones.
/2023
Suayan
Climbing to Suayan HillThe sound of gibbons echoes faintlyin the last remaining forest. The waters of the nearby jungle ring in the eardrums. The trickle of water falling on the rocksLike the tickling of old fingers in a saluang holeAccompanying the song mayik ka descend*
While the road continues to rise, the rice remains uprightOn the sloping plot of terraces, waiting to bendWhen it turns yellow. The trees shiverIn the mist, reminiscent of a line of menlooking for a shortcut to a hiding placeA time when rice fields were not hoeedFields were not plantedBecause their shoulders carried rifles.
At the end of the song, a man wears a clothA sarong wipes the soot from his eyesBetween the last trees and the trickling waterHe remembers the wounds of the hunt and the sorrow of escapeAnd the hills that will now be hoeed The rumble of big machines Certainly changes the rhythm of saluang.
/2023
Notes: *The title of a classic Minang saluang song, "Suayan Mayik ka Turun" (Suayan, the corpse will come down).
Also read: Naning Scheid's poems
Surau Tuo Taram
Behind the transparent curtainSyekh Ibrahim Mufti's gravestoneI can see. Very beautiful.
Curved short pillarsSupporting a wall that is not a boundaryfor the prayers being offered
The tomb dome is round with a rusty tin roofJust like Bukik Bulek* brown white rock
—At its feet the splash of pool waterStands upright against the sharp roofSurau Tuo Taram
I enjoy everything in silenceIn the amazement of the travelerI listen to everything that is deep-rooted
It grows and spreads throughout my bodyEven though my remembrance is not yet as splashy as pond waterBut my heart is as happy as a fish
When the call to prayer sounded, time threw a net at meAnd like a transparent curtain,
The net did not prevent me as a congregation from looking at the prayer priest's back.
/2023
Note: *Bukik Bulek (Bukit Bulat) is the name of a hill in Nagari Taram, Limapuluh Kota Regency, West Sumatra.
